Consume- Chase Atlantc
(Slowed & Reverb)
Thomas McGowan
_________________________________
It was past midnight. A soft rain hit my office windows behind me as I tapped my keyboard in a fast rate.
I had gotten ride of my lounge coat long ago and unbuttoned my dresser shirt a little as the material was starting to get irritating around my neck.
Adding a final period, I lifted my hand to my jaw and reread the product.
It was pretty impressive indeed how I happened to be so good at licking peoples asses into my favour. Ironic isn't it?
It was to imbeciles like Mr.Brown to who I loved twisting truths.
I wasn't really bluffing either, just giving the taste of a dream, one that was too good to be true.
That's how you do business.
Offer and receive.
One of the oldest tricks in the book.
I liked to call it a deal with the devil.
Far too many fell for the easy twist. I knew what they wanted and they knew I could give it to them. All I had to do was present it on a silver platter.
It was like holding out a carrot in front of a donkey while they blindly leading me towards the greater success.
My dear friend Mr.Brown wasn't a difficult man. That's what I loved about our friendship. He was your typical money chasing old fuck. He'll probably be chasing those stacks till eighty.
Mr. Brown was that classic rich, white, american man with a wife 20 years younger than him and a daughter who gets straight A's.
He lived that old fashioned American dream, many chased and pictured themselves in.
That fascination I still didn't completely understand yet was surrounded with.
It was over hyped if you ask me, boring even.
But it's what drew people closer to me. And by people I mean a specific person. A woman, one with brown hair and creamy patterns.
To be honest. It still doesn't quite strike me why I took her in.
Sure, I cared about my image and how bad I'd look if I got caught witnessing in live TV a case of probable domestic abuse. On second thought, people here didn't really care that much about minorities for it to be that big of a thing. So perhaps it was out of pity, curiosity maybe.
Either ways, she was now living under my roof and I suppose it was alright as long as she kept herself away from my shit.
With a stretch I pressed the enter button and sent the message to the man before turning around on my chair to catch the view of rain drops racing down my window and the tall skyscrapers of Miami lighten up under the night sky.
It was beautiful.
It was my empire.
The premium American dream if you will.
I got up from my chair and walked to my wine closet opening it's glass door as I carefully selected a Pinot Noir from my eye level.
I rolled the bottle on my hands examining it's vintage and the area in which it was made in.
With satisfaction I took a large bowled crystal glass and poured my Pinot, rolling the liquid in the chalice while admiring it's light body.
'' Thomas? '' A soft, almost shy voice called for me.
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The Tango of The Cursed | Mature
Roman d'amour𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 _________________________________________ "It's hard to forget your past when its written all over your skin." - Colleen Beaumont is a 18 years-old village girl from the forested mountains of Cuba. ...
